


Rhapsody of Fire

by BloodyIria



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M, Fantasy, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-01 02:59:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8604475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodyIria/pseuds/BloodyIria
Summary: [Dragons!AU]"At that time, roaring rivers flowed and sparkling waters rippled through the fins of shining fishes; winds breathed among green grass leaves and crimson flames rambled into the beasts' powerful jaws. They lit up misty moon nights, the dearest fellows against the cold darkness and long winters deprived of sunlight."





	1. Tempesta di Fuoco

**Rhapsody of Fire**

**Chapter 1**

**Tempesta di Fuoco**

Dragons weren’t always their worst enemies.  
It all begun when humans started to settle in certain valleys, leaving an itinerant and primitive life, creating little by little villages, which slowly grew into thriving and lavish towns.  
At that time, roaring rivers flowed and sparkling waters rippled through the fins of shining fishes; winds breathed among green grass leaves and crimson flames rambled into the beasts’ powerful jaws. They lit up misty moon nights, the dearest fellows against the cold darkness and long winters deprived of sunlight.  
The creatures lived in their caves for ages, as those rock shelters were dug up in golden and gems, letting them be heated in the womb of the earth by fire and cradled in greed. Thanks to this, they were strong and vigorous – kaleidoscopic scales were wrapped in a melted gold armor, and dragons, domineering lords, shook the bowels of their nests, for their only obsession was strength.  
However, humans’ gluttony started overwhelming dragons.  
It was a slowly course which had been needing ages: the mankind spread their villages over the known lands and at the same time the lords of skies weakened. Dragons’ energy dwelt in the purest gilt treasures, and so, as their magic was infected by human beings, they were no more allied, those who brighten the most labyrinthine paths, but foes to de hunted down and destroyed.  
The lack of gold led the creatures to madness and the voracious hunger, the agonizing emptiness left by their reason drove them to commit unspeakable horrors.  
Herds came first.  
Then, they turned to human flesh.

Kyosuke Munakata was one of Aurumvallis’ lords. The flourishing town was located in one of the richest valleys of their world, blessing the citizens with gold and a physical strength developed climbing the rough walls of the mountains, looking for treasures.  
The bond created with earth slowly made them and the beasts compete for supremacy, until they became dragons hunters, _legendary_ and feared warriors, known everywhere in their world, as their names were remembered and whispered in thrilled murmurs.  
So, Kyosuke Munakata was a young leader, a hunter, a husband, a father; and, even if they seemed roles so distant, on the verging of falling trough the cruelty of a fight and the sweet warmth of an embrace, he stood out in any case.  
Eyes as blue as the two rivers framing their land, he could veil his gaze in diplomacy and change rage in vague and ethereal tenderness.  
While his comrades fought with bow, arrows and spears all bathed in the magic of gold and precious stones, Munakata was a swordsman. So, he was always forced into close-range fights, but his strong, nimble and yet thin body had been helping him to slide under the gargantuan stomaches, slicing them in half.

That night, Chisa Yukizome, his beloved one, was helping him to get ready for the forthcoming battle.  
“There’s still what we think should be one of the last nests in the surroundings of our land.” He was explaining, as Chisa’s hands were on his torso, helping him wearing his spaulders. Munakata’s armor was simple, lightweight and tough. The breastplate was embellished with gilded scales of dragons, he had agate chausses and dragon’s leather gauntlets.  
Chisa didn’t answer immediately, for Kyosuke smiled when a soft cry came from the cradle in their room. He lift up their daughter, holding and lulling her in his arms.  
“This is my last time.” He said. “I’ve promised you.”  
“I know.” Yukizome replied, while she was on her tiptoes to kiss him, her hands caressing the pale skin of his face.  
Chisa herself knew how to fight and how to hunt, but she had grown weak due to the pregnancy and Munakata almost begged her to stop. He was also willing to do the same, to leave everything just to catch hold of their frail joy.  
He just wanted to keep on loving her in a place touched by the sea, in the glow of midsummer sun. He wished to see her cheeks shaded in a soft blush again, to cherish his daughter’s life and to let her grow far away from the dragons’ growls.  
It would have been hard, maybe dangerous – a shameful mark, but he was ready to suffer any humiliation, ignominy, _degradation_ , just to see them both safe by his side.  
“See you at dawn.” He said at last, kissing the little one on the forehead, before he gave her to Yukizome.

The ride was exhausting, much longer then Munakata had thought and the horses soon needed to stop.  
Obviously, Kyosuke knew dragons hid themselves in inaccessible places, so before they arrived to the black hollow, preparing the assault, they left their horses to rest.  
The atmosphere was so dense he stopped breathing, and he perceived a shadow looming over his head. There was something so bizarre it sickened him: dragons used to rumble, gurgle and spit fire to free their breath, drawing crimson shades in the sky. So, a restless foreboding pulsed against his chest: dragons had an incredible intellect too, so what if it was just a… _trap_? What if they were attacking the town? There weren’t enough defenses left…  
And yet, when they arrived to the nest, a _carnage_ welcomed them.  
_The dragons were dead._  
Kyosuke tried to turn around and give prompt orders, but then he felt the end of a spear clinked against his back. Then, it slowly climbed up to his neck, followed by many others, all pointed at him.  
_What did it mean?_  
He gradually raised his arms, as a sign of surrendering.  
“ _Lord?_ Well, I think this title like is no more needed.”  
Munakata was now aware he had been the only one to step in the dell’s centre, among the blood of dragons and their scattered innards, in the middle of a circle made of the blind and judging heads of those monsters.  
“What is that for?” He asked smoothly, as the other warriors started to disarm him.  
“You want to run away and to abandon our land and your role, don’t you? We have always suspected a young leader would have been a trouble, but… you were our hope.”  
_Hope._  
Kyosuke closed his eyes, letting them remove his armor. He couldn’t do anything reckless, he just had to think about a way to escape.  
“Do you remember our code?”

 

1) A Hunter soaks the ground with his own blood, and they tie themselves to the earth until death.  
2) A Hunter is a shield and a weapon.  
3) A Hunter has no cravings; and if they desire, their soul must be prepared to loss and sacrifice.  
4) A Hunter does not let down their guard, they never leave their weapons nor their gazes are humble. The thirst of battle nourishes their strength.  
5) A Hunter never leaves the blood path, since in blood the coward expiates their guilts.  
6) A Hunter who places the selfishness of feelings before the common good is a threat.  
7) A Hunter agrees to their penalty, and they return the gift of life to earth.  
8) A Hunter never begs for their life.  
9) A Hunter never kneels for redemption.  
10) A Hunter accepts to burn, to rejoin the heavens, turning into ashes, feeding the lands.

 

So, they were there for his verdict.

Kyosuke was silent as they spoke, well aware of what his decision could have led to, but he had been stubborn, believing they could have never suspected him.  
_A foolish and naive mistake._  
As he closed his eyes, his thoughts ran to Yukizome and their child. If he had not referred to their bond, they would have survived and nothing could have touched or harmed them _ever_ , since it was all a vile and forbidden plot of his.  
Though he was ready for his punishment, he froze when he heard a crying scream, a well known voice, which seemed to be nearer and nearer, broken by a dreadful _despair_.  
Munakata moved and his mind didn’t fathom the sadist and perverted behaviour of those men, who let him riunite with Yukizome.  
Blood and mud were dirtying her white dress, and so her hair. But she wasn’t hurt, there were no visible wounds on her body.  
Chisa was frantically trembling and weeping, as she could stop no more, her eyes tainted in a shadow of madness.  
_Whose blood was that?_  
_Where was their child?_  
Yukizome tried to hold onto him, grabbing his arms, and Kyosuke saw the red stains of her hands on his coat.  
Almost invisible pieces of bleeding flesh were on the body of his beloved one.  
_No._  
_No._  
_Please._  
“Chisa…”

He couldn’t hear the clinking sound of weapons over the violent sorrow of his wife, nor he heard the clamor of the crowd – a monster infected by the the feral rapture of murder.  
Kyosuke turned to face them, shielding all that was left of his heart.  
But the men didn’t move and a deathly quiet fell onto him, as he felt a blade dug into his back.

_11) Respice post te. Hominem te memento. *_

Falling on his knees, as the blood lasciviously glided on the skin, Munakata could sense Chisa’s fingers tracing the trial of that scarlet stain.  
Looking up at the sky, a storm was approaching, and thunders blasted as the dragons’ outbursts of rage.  
Then, when he fell on his hands, his face was stepped on and sunken down, down in the still burning blood of the beasts, though he couldn’t hear his own screams, deaf to every single sound in the world, but the devastating rumble of the sky.  
Before his world flipped over, disappearing, his eyes glimpsed Yukizome for the very last time.  
He stretched a hand to reach her blurry figure in a last attempt to protect the woman, while those men seemed to be ready to tear her belly open.  
_“Chisa…”_

When Kyosuke opened his eyes, he was floating in the nothingness and he couldn’t feel pain or cold. He didn’t even know if his body still existed somewhere in the universe.  
There was an incessant gurgle in his hears, a muttering which soon separated from the sound of the rain as it was pouring down.  
At first, those whispers were made of obscure words, that slowly became more familiar. Then, his heart beat and an unbearable burning, the crackling of fire, soon exploded all over his being.  
Kyosuke screamed.  
His lungs blew up in an unknown roar – a hypnotic echo as ancient as time.  
So, the jaws of a dragon appeared before his eyes, hovering. Its lethal teeth were exposed in an evil smile.  
“We can grant the atoning hunter just one wish: death or revenge in fire. Pay attention, human, since in revenge lies a fitting punishment. You shall live as a prey for men and dragons. Love shan’t touch you never more, for you will only long for the kiss of death. Now, choose.”  
Fading into eternity would have been the most rational choice, the only chance to reunite to those he loved; and yet, while the growl grew more, more and more, until it pierced his heart, Kyosuke knew he had yet chosen, crossing the edge of madness, making his farewell.  
“Revenge.”

He woke up within flames, blindfolded by a beastly wrath.  
His body was vigorous and colossal, his scream shook the valley, his infernal breath dried out its rivers.  
Kyosuke roared at the stars, a cry to heaven, while his silvery wings slashed the air across the rain, which vanished when it fell on his incandescent skin.  
Whirlwind of flames and cruel magma were thrown on the houses of those disgusting pigs, burning down to a crisp every single sign of life.  
And he kept on continuing until it was left nothing but a dead land under his claws and among his voracious jaws.  
_Ashes to ashes; dust to dust._


	2. Son of Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!*  
> This chapter contains scenes of abuse on a minor, so, please, if you feel uncomfortable, skip it!

**Rhapsody of Fire**

**Chapter 2**

**Son Of Pain**

 

Juzo Sakakura was a slave, once.  
Raised in the exotic lands of the East, he had never belonged to those eternally sunbathed fields.  
Since he was born, his life started to decay, falling into a black and disgusting hole.  
_He had never been free._  
His mother, who was escaping from the attack of a monstrous and furious dragon to the town she had been living in, soon stopped running into the craggy paths of the mountain, waiting for her death, holding up her swollen belly.  
When a rich merchant caught a sight of her bloody dress along the trail, it was a salvation, or maybe a punishment.  
The woman was barely breathing, so trying to save her it would have been useless, but the newborn in her cold embrace and close to her breast was alive. The man had never seen that eye colour – _a deep flaming red printed as the still blazing flames._  
Then, the wayfarer bent down to pick up the baby wrapped in what he thought it was a black fur, before he realized: _dragonhair_.  
He carefully looked at the child and so he noticed the inlaid seal of a crescent moon on a scale…  
Before the man could take any kind of decision, in a last effort, the woman grabbed his forearm, nails deep in the flesh.  
_“Ju…zo Saka…kura.”_ She exhaled her child’s name, as it was her final wish, the futile will before death.  
_Motherly love_ , he thought, as the little one turned his head against his chest, closing his eyes in a a feeble wail.  
So, there had been survivors in Aurumvallis, and, maybe, he was holding the last hunter alive…  
A mean and rotten grin broke his lips, heinous and greedy.  
_How much would he have been worth?_

When he was ten, his first master finally decided he was ready to be sold.  
He remembered how the old man caressed his face, undressing him. He could still sense his wrinkled hands on his warm skin and between his legs, touching his genitalia as he was appraising a beast.  
In those moments, Juzo didn’t really know how to feel: in his naivety as a child, he perceived a stifling grip – his heart stopped beating and fear grew like a malicious ogre.  
Chained like a wild animal, the first time it happened, Juzo tried to push him away.  
It was a dangerous instinct. It blew up in a hidden corner of his mind – the chrysalis of a sleeping warrior’s will. But then, his insolence costed him dearly, since the scars he got had never faded.  
The man – now faceless in his memories – forced the kid to kneel. Enraged, yelling, spitting insults in a language Juzo had forgotten, he hit him with a riding crop more and more and more, until his wounds seared. They were all over his body, between his legs, on his hips and rear end – blood pouring slowly, tears consuming his eyes.  
_Please._  
_Please._  
Stop.  
In his painful weakness, Juzo had seen the fur in the master’s room glowing out of the corner of his eye, as it was releasing a healing heat felt only by his body.

Whenever Juzo slept by his side, they never truly had sex, even if at that time the boy hadn’t the slightest idea about the nature of that act.  
The man knew that, by preserving the kid’s virginity, he would have increased his value, but he still asked for the child’s warm presence, just to touch him, caressing the edges of the healed wounds.  
Too soon Juzo learnt how to taste and how to satisfy a man with his own mouth. Following that beast’s orders, he took his penis between his lips, licking and sucking the erection as the other wished. The first time he swallowed his semen, he threw up. Coughing, choking in the abhorrent flavour, he opened his carmine eyes wide, as a frightful question was hanging in those irises.  
_Why me?  
_ And yet, slowly everything became easier – he just had to close his eyes, trying to ignore his master’s moans or the pain to his consumed knees.

Juzo was bought by a brothel and he stayed there until he was fifteen.  
He remembered they travelled across the North lands, as he smiled at the wild horses which were galloping next to their wagon, charmed by the polychrome colours of the hippogriffs, listening to the songs of the Fair Folk.  
Before they parted away, the master had set the long black fur down on his shoulder, bending over the child.  
“You will be allowed to keep only few things, but it’s your right to have this.” He said, while Juzo was examining the carved scale.  
So, the man lift his face up just to be able to look into those eyes for the very last time, kissing him in a breath on his lips.  
_“Stay safe, Juzo.”_

He had had warriors, kings and criminals between his legs, and nobody really showed mercy for the body of a child.  
Juzo was way stronger and sturdier than the other prostitutes in the brothel. They whispered he descended from a warrior race and, lovingly, those stories made him proud.  
_But did he really believe in them?  
_ Sometimes, there was a bitter cold on his skin, so he just hid his head among the bruised legs, lulled by the warmth of that black fur as humiliation kept devouring his heart.

When he was eleven, he had sex with his first men. One of those was among the most fearful lords of war, who had asked for a young body, a virgin boy to posses and to make his own.  
He had never clearly remembered what happened. The lord’s comrades were watching, since they let their leader go first, and he forced the kid’s legs open.  
Juzo couldn’t scream.  
The man’s hand was on his mouth, suffocating his voice.  
_It was cold._  
_It tasted like blood and sweat._  
He could only watch into the beastly eyes of the stranger as he rode between his thighs – and those holes as black as the stormy heights of the mountains kept hunting him in his nightmares for years.  
However, when the man came, freeing his bloody body covered in spots of semen, Juzo fell down, shaking in spasms. Then, he knew that, one by one, they would have continued.  
He had not moved for days and nobody understood how the wounds healed: _his masters were just waiting for his death._

During his twelfth year on the earth, they tattooed him.  
Blocked against his bed, Juzo had screamed and kicked as they drew a thin black line all around his neck – the prostitutes’ earmark in those land, a cruel collar.  
They hit him until it was just too painful to move  
_“I want to fight.”_

Juzo was fifteen when he learnt how to please himself.  
Aware of his body and its needs, he understood how to tame his lovers’ lust and how to ride them, while listening to their pleas, dominating their cravings as they begged for more and more.  
His look was stronger than ever before, his unrefined muscles belonged to a young lad who had grown in violence, knowing the only way to survive was to keep holding out against sorrow.  
The owners of the brothel esteemed him highly, and they often let Juzo have some well earned leisure: a race in the wood, a hunting trip to meet the boiling instinct in his heart.  
So, Juzo had tirelessly tried to discern the whisper of the winds from the voices of ancient beasts, enjoying the sight of a flying Rok – that white and gargantuan bird, elephant eater.  
He praised nature with that child naivety the world had torn from his chest years ago.  
_“I want to fight.”_

He was sold again during the eve of his sixteenth birthday.  
A rich nobleman from the South had seen him while he was hunting, bewitched by his athletic and fast legs, and the boy’s muscles tensed when he jumped on a tree to avoid the _Ophiotaurus’_ furious run – it was an old monster, part bull and part snake.  
Juzo stayed still and, as he was hiding in the leaves, his crimson eyes were so focused it seemed he was barely breathing.  
He saw the beast stopped and feed on the berries of some bushes, its tail as thick and adamant as rock.  
The boy had studied for a long time its movement and behaviour, so he knew the creature was probably weakened, since it wasn’t eating the meat of a pray.  
He got up just to let himself slide upside-down in a gliding motion, the shapeliness legs intertwined all around the thin branch of the tree.  
The young boy prepared an arrow in his bow and then he waited, before he shot, hitting the creature between the neck and the shoulder, blood gushing from the wound.  
Deaf to the mellow and the hisses of the animal, Juzo moved fast to put an end to its sorrow. Jumping on the Ophiotaurus’ back, he pulled out his dagger and sank the blade deep down the injured flesh, his first burning in the blood, until the beast stopped writhing.  
Then, Juzo rolled over the soil, wheezing in a wild and enraptured strength, which thundered in his heart. He lift his left hand up, against the sunlight filtered through the leaves, and the blood slowly glided on his arm.  
_He felt alive._  
He felt alive and stronger, and he didn’t care about the humiliations he suffered, since his soul was roaring – _a furious growl in his hears_.  
“Oh, that was an interesting performance, don’t you think so, Gozu?” The old man spoke, addressing to his younger servant, who was following him. Juzo stood up, on the alert.  
The stranger noticed the tattoo on his neck and he smiled, while the boy seemed more interested to his slave.  
Tall, a great chest, long hair and amber eyes. His arms would have broken him, his hands would have choked him in a heartbeat.  
Juzo’s eyes glowed.  
“Who do you belong to, lad?”  
That question caught him off-guard, but soon he just sniggered.  
“I’m a part of this earth, _sir_. I don’t understand what you are talking about.”  
The servant hid a chuckle in a cough, and Juzo looked at him totally amazed, spellbound and almost curious.  
So, he bowed to the two foreigners.  
_“But… I can be yours, since it’s only a matter of how much gold and silver you possess.”_

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> This chapter has been quite difficult. It was supposed to include the story between Juzo and Gozu, but I've decided to split it in two different chapters!  
> I hope there aren't too much mistakes... I feel a bit unsure, maybe it's also because of the subjects in this part of the story.  
> However, if there's somebody who is still reading, I hope you have enjoyed the chapter!  
> Thank you for your time!  
> Until the next update ~!


	3. Never Forgotten Heroes

**Rhapsody of Fire**

**Chapter 3**

**Never Forgotten Heroes**

Juzo had travelled halfway around the world.  
His skin got sunburnt under the daylight of so many journeys, and his body had strengthened through uncountable fights.  
Ten years passed since he had left the brothel, and that farewell filled him the ferocious feeling of a wild freedom, a pure and screaming joy.  
He reluctantly left the woods where he had found a reason to live, but his new master had offered him an incentive, the thrill for a wonderful pledge, enlighten with the tenacious hope for a chance to discover his origins.

They travelled for days, taking breaks just to eat and to sleep in the inns along the path.  
Juzo and Gozu walked near the master’s horse, and the boy was happy with it. When he was in the brothel, he had been imprisoned in his room for so long, that the thought of running and studying new creatures with no restriction softened every difficulty.  
Covered in the old fur, which finally started to give him what it seemed being an immature elegance, the Nordic cold couldn’t reach him, even if he wasn’t wearing wintry clothes as the master or Gozu.

During their first night in an inn, Juzo felt lost, _disoriented_. The nobleman had asked for just one room, so the boy simply thought the man wanted him in his bed. Instead, surprisingly enough, the master pointed at the pallet where Gozu would have slept. Juzo couldn’t really understand what was going on, so he just followed what he had learnt in those years, starting to take his clothes off… but the servant stopped him, letting the boy lay down next to his body.  
“You should rest, lad.” Gozu said with a subtle smile, untying his long hair.  
“A long journey is before us.”  
So, while the flames in the lanterns were consumed, Juzo passed his time staring at Gozu’s sleeping face.  
Ever since he could remember, it was the first time he shared a bed with a man without selling a piece of his soul and body; and he shivered, despite he wasn’t cold. An irrational feeling bit his heart, dragging him on the verge of tears.  
_“I’m not afraid.”_

When they entered wilder lands, inns became rarer and more often they were forced to camp in hidden places in the wood. Under the stars, warmed up by the fire, Juzo found himself being hypnotized by the call of unknown animals. The first time they ended up sleeping in the forest, Gozu showed him what kind of bird produced that sweet sound. In the dead of night, they walked among secrets paths hidden by bushes and brambles, until the reached the feet of a hill in a moor, catching sight of a cave. There, Juzo saw a bird with shining wings, covered in metallic colours. Its eyes emitted lights, exposing the place where it was hiding.The boy was breathless, as he tighten his grip around the branch of a bush next to them.  
“What is it?”  
“An Alicanto, lad.” Gozu said, pressed his large hand on Sakakura’s head, caressing the boy’s thin and dark hair. For a moment, it almost seemed he was playing with a longer lock of his hair, and a smile veiled the man’s lips.  
“We may have been blessed with luck.”

While traveling, Juzo learnt the nature of his new job. In fact, the master was a nobleman in a land no longer rich and thriving, slowly consumed by the desert. Therefore, he had started to organize plays and fights between warrior slaves, trying to entertain his starved people and quell their heart filled with rage. So, Juzo’s physical skills had fascinated him, since he thought the boy would have been an interesting _item_ to mould out of rough clay – a body to train and _to break_ according to his will.  
“Gozu is the best among my warriors. I can assure he will be a great mentor.” The man said at last, looking at them through the dying fire.  
Then, as the master wrapped himself up in some blankets and Juzo clutched his fur cloak onto his body, he noticed Gozu were simply on the cold grass, staring at the stars. The furrowed brow made his features tougher, almost wild under the moonlight, and Juzo approached the man slowly, laying down with him, covering them both with his fur under the older’s amused and intrigued gaze.  
“This won’t smooth my training methods.”  
“And I’m not asking you, _old man_.” The boy rebutted, subconsciously searching for the warmth of the other's skin, glimpsing the man as he was caressing the dark fur on their bodies, focusing on that old and unbreakable scale.  
"Is something wrong?"  
“No. I’ve just recalled I’ve already seen something like this before.”  
Juzo got confused, but he didn’t ask for more, and he looked up at that sky too, an explosion of light he had never witnessed before.  
It seemed like Gozu had passed almost all his life studying the heavens, memorizing the position of the stars. His eyes crossed the firmament, as he was solving a tangled trick.  
“Do you know them, don’t you? The constellation names, I mean.” Juzo turned to have a better look at him. Their half-naked legs got entwined.  
“Please, sir. Teach me how to recognize them.”

Those years marched on, fading in a soft joy, a simple feeling that filled Juzo with an inexplicable calm. Deep into his heart, he was terrified to watch it falling from his hold, as the bloody sand in the Arena where he had been fighting.

Gozu had taught him how to face an enemy. They had spent days, weeks and months in the mud, under the rain or the burning sun; but he didn’t mind: Gozu was with him on the training field, and their time slipped away through their wheezing breaths and frustrated moans. Juzo excelled in hand-to-hand combat skills, with his powerful grips and fast blows. Most of the time, at the end of the day, they were too tired to move, so they just stayed there, their bodies closed in the last grip of the fight. In those moments Juzo had known a different kind of contact, made of nonsexual touching, with no violence nor lust. There was an heartfelt tenderness, the matching whisper of breaths in a time only of their own.

Once, some warriors from the nordic lands noticed Juzo’s tattoo, and so they attempt to humiliate him – _to take some advantage and a little bit of fun out of a whore._  
However, in that corridor of the poor building where the slaves resided, Juzo defeated them one by one. Falling on his knees, panting, out of breath in his ripped clothes, the young boy was the last one standing among those brainless pigs. When he glimpsed Gozu’s blurry figure coming from a mile away, Juzo grinned, raising his left and bleeding fist to the sky.  
Despite all, the boy was shaking, terrified, because he had read depraved intentions in those eyes, and he just couldn't bear to suffer that degrading treatment ever again.  
But in his shivers there was joy too – _unbridled, delirious, the evidence he could battle for his own freedom._  
"I will not bow. Never more."

A long time ago, Gozu was a pirate.  
Juzo had learned that detail during one of those nights in which the experienced and older warriors drunk until dawn. The boy often went with him just to steal a tot of rum or to help the man coming back to his room whenever he got too drunkard to walk. With a ruddy face, Gozu told astonishing stories about silvery waves and how it felt to be free from earthly cares – stars to lead the course, sea monsters to defeat.  
When the dead were forgotten and the games were over, raising his bottle through the laughs, the choirs and the applauses of those comrades for a night of careless fun, Gozu would have sung:

_* “Hope is now before us, and misery at aft._  
_We could not care the lesser for the men who say, "You're daft!"_  
_So let the howling winds blow in and take hold of the mast.  
_ _Release the wheel and all your sins, for you are free at last!” *_

Gozu kissed him for the first time during one of those hangovers.  
While Juzo was helping the older get to bed, the latter dragged the younger towards him, a hand on Juzo's nape, pressing the lips on his.  
At the beginning, Juzo didn’t know what to do. The first instinct that crossed his mind was to push the man away. Then, a dreadful fear fell over his heart, and as his mind was imprisoned in the memory of a rotten punishment, he felt like a powerless child. But soon, Gozu let him go, caressing the skin of his chin with two fingers.  
Juzo stared at him, confused.  
_Mortified._  
_Terrified._  
And yet, when the warrior started to play again with that longer lock of his hair, the crushing panic around his chest calmed down.  
_“Why?”_

The night before his first fight in the Arena, Sakakura was eighteen and he was in the common room where the slaves usually drank.  
As it always happened when Gozu was starting to tell one of his stories, the warriors in the room gathered all around the former pirate. So, quietly, Juzo sat by his side, listening to him.  
“There was a dragons hunter in my crew. He was one of the most dangerous warriors I had ever met.”  
When he heard those words, a dormant urge awakened in Juzo, and he felt his heart beating faster.  
“Thanks to him, we had been able to beat a _Leviathan_. It was no dragon, sure, but it had the same terrible strength. A large and long body, jaws as dark and profound as the pit of hell. Many among my men fell into the swirling abysses it had created for us. But he… he was fighting only with his halberd in gold and gems, with his amber coat made of dragonhair…”  
And then, Gozu cast a glance over Juzo, as he was clinging to his fur.  
“He jumped right into the monster’s voracious mouth, cutting its throat open from the inside. The black and boiling blood stained the sea for days and miles. But he saved us… my second in command.” Gozu smiled softly, and Juzo almost felt a treacherous and irrational feeling of jealousy.  
“What happened to him?”  
“When we anchored to the port of the West Lands, he went back home, just to meet his own death. A mephistophelian creature, _a blue eyed white dragon_ attacked his town, Aurumvallis, killing all the hunters… except one, it seems.” He said, winking an eye in Juzo direction.  
Skeptical and perplexed, the boy looked at him.  
“What are you implying? I’m not a dragons hunter.”  
“That cloak of yours confirms anything but my words.” Gozu replied, offering Sakakura his bottle of rum. Still, Juzo pushed his hand away, standing up and helping the other do the same.  
“Come on, old man. You’re drunk. Time to sleep.”

For his first show, Juzo was lucky enough not to face somebody he knew.  
Indeed, he was aware friends didn’t really exist in that place. They were just sharing a common and cruel fate of wild and ferocious battles to survive, as the dead’s memory faded away soon, their bones lost in the sand.  
But Juzo couldn’t bear the thought of fighting against Gozu, and so he breathed a sight of relief, when he knew he would have faced a beast, a ravenous _Chimera_. They said it was a creature of divine make, lion fronted and dragon behind, a goat in the middle, with the three heads breathing raging and bright fire.  
The boy realized he needed to fight that monster at very close range, so he chose a thick sword as a weapon.

Juzo couldn’t hear the screams of the crowd.  
In his hears there only were the rabid growls of that monster. His shoulder was wounded, hit by the lion's bite the first time he tried to come closer, but it had been a good way to study a strategy: the only head that could move, attacking on sides, was the lion’s. The goat kept its eyes straight ahead, the dragon were focused on everything that was behind.  
He ran, headed to the open maw of the lion, being able to cover himself in his fur at the very last. Then, Juzo glided on the sand, between the horrible paws, unsheathing his sword and thrusting it in the immense stomach.  
The Arena quaked trough surprising cries and howls, but the boy didn’t let go of his hold, despite the monster was trying to shake him down. So, he grabbed its mane, climbing on the top of the creature.  
A downward blow, and the goat head flew away, so he could sit with legs astride and then move to stand up on the monster’s back.  
However, Juzo had underrated the dragon which, in the blink of an eye, attacked him, planting its fangs in the flesh of his leg. The young male screamed, feeling his lungs burning, but he just tried to stay focused, fighting back. He buried the sword in the lion head, to get the push he needed to face the dragon.  
Looking right in those eyes, as red as hell, Juzo felt a thrill, _an arousal_ which titillated and seared his heart. He grinned, and as the beast opened its mouth, regardless of danger, he stretched out his left hand, wielding the sword towards the monster’s roof of the mouth, straight in its brain.  
So, while the blood of the beast soaked him to the skin, Juzo finally perceived the crowd’s rumble and the chaotic joy of winning. He raised the left arm over his head, reaching for the sky, standing up on the monster corpse.  
Then, Juzo caught eyes with Gozu and, while the man was clapping his hands, the boy could glimpse his smile and his lips as they moved under the burning light of sun.  
_“Hunter.”  
__Victorious._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was longer, but since I know I would have done a greater mess than this, I've decided to make two different chapters, so in the next there will be the end to this flashback!  
> The verse I quoted is from "The Pirate Shanty". I love that song. :)  
> Thank you for reading ~!


	4. Agony is my Name

**Rhapsody of Fire**

**Chapter 4**

**Agony is my Name**

 

 

That night, they had sex for the first time.  
When he saw Juzo coming back to the empty dorms, Gozu picked him up all at once.  
“Hey!”  
“Your wounds. You shouldn’t bleed out after the first success.” The man mocked him, walking to his bed; and there, the former pirate smiled at Juzo, as his hands softly washed away the blood, cleaning and bandaging the injuries.  
They hadn’t take into account what happened next.  
Gozu was behind him, tying Sakakura’s hair with one of his own ribbon just to be able to rub the dirt off his face.  
At the beginning, they just kissed. Then, Juzo grabbed the other’s shirt, dragging the man on his body.  
He didn’t miss sex. After his years in the brothel, he would have never let anyone make him feel helpless, _powerless_ – a toy to abuse until it bled.  
_But Gozu was different._  
Juzo wrapped his well-built legs around the older man’s waist, holding him closer, craving all the warmth that body could offer.  
It was a foreign, _foolish_ desire, since he had never had the chance, or better _the right_ of _choosing_ , but the younger warrior just longed for him – Gozu’s hands on his skin, as they possessed his flesh and soul.  
“Captain, captain…” Juzo whispered an inch away from the other’s lips. There was a pleased tenderness, something he had never known before – _only blood and violence and damned tears in his memory._  
“I’ll be yours to keep.”

Finding happiness in slavery didn’t make much sense.  
And yet, Juzo felt safe even if he was just leaning against his partner’s body: fear fled, and so the thought that someday they wouldn’t have survived to see the rising sun. But they were strong: both of them could manage to get by, earning enough money and glory to achieve freedom.

They weren’t always together, and that’s because Juzo didn’t want to sully Gozu’s reputation.  
Often, the young male used to watch the former pirate from a distance, as he was telling again and again his sea tales; and Juzo just smiled at him with endless melancholy, veiled by the bittersweet feeling his heart was hiding.  
He couldn’t bear the sight of his reflection, for that tattoo kept burning his pride. _There was no use in hiding it._ It would have been there forever, a seal of his _subhuman_ nature.

Once, he tried to get rid of it by stripping the flesh from his neck.  
Kneeling on his pallet, slowly, he started to scratch the sensitive skin away with a needle, blood all over the threadbare blanket, imprinting in every pang of sorrow the violence in his life.  
_He just wanted to be set free_ – feeling the air in his lungs, acknowledging it was his own in a scream of joy.  
“Juzo!”  
Since Gozu hadn’t seen the younger in the common room, he was looking for him when he witnessed that shocking and horrifying scene.  
The man run towards the younger, strongly grabbing his wrists, forcing him to stop.  
_Torn flesh._  
Smell of blood so suffocating he felt almost nauseous.  
“What the hell are you doing?”  
He sunk in Sakakura’s eyes, clouded by the weakness of the self-inflicted wounds. Then, Gozu caressed his neck, viscous blood among the fingers, looking at his still perfectly visible tattoo.  
Juzo froze, moaning, wheezing.  
“I… I’m sorry. _I’m sorry_.”  
And Gozu listened to that cry throughout the night, as he healed his cuts; laying down with him, holding the boy tightly against his chest.  
  
Juzo had moved the first step towards his own downfall.  
In those last years he discovered a faster and easier way to buy his freedom: being a _Misthophóros_ , a mercenary.  
The master selected a few among his slaves, offering them a chance of redemption, even if Gozu had refused repeatedly that shameful compromise.  
_It was grace for sale._  
And Sakakura accepted at his first occasion.  
They never discussed about that issue, and the warm light which linked their hearts gradually disappeared, sliding trough Juzo’s hands _– it just didn’t matter how much he tried to catch Gozu’s blurry figure again._  
Sakakura vanished for days, coming back from long journeys sick and tired, a handful of golden coins in his pocket and the umpteenth corpse at his master’s feet. He kept sitting next to Gozu, drinking from the bottle they used to share, trying to listen to the man’s tales… but his soul, as dry as those dying lands, could dance no more to the rhythm of his pirate shanties.

The first thing Gozu remembered of his childhood was the sea – the foam on his feet, while the salty scent from the ocean broke his breath in the incessant breeze.  
He was born on a fishermen island, a crossing point for pirate ships. His mother died in childbirth and he didn’t know anything about his father. He just kept spending his days along the shore, swimming, fishing, lighting fires and sharing his meals with the other orphans. Nimbly, he was always the one jumping between rocks, grabbing the biggest fishes with his bare hands…

Once, a man who was walking on the seaside called him out, since he had noticed the child was a great swimmer and the most capable among his friends.  
“This world is rotten to the core, lad, and it’s a waste for the lovers of the sea.” The foreigner looked at him, a crooked smile revealing few golden teeth.  
“Follow me, and I promise I’ll show you waves higher than these mountains, and places of extraordinary beauty.”  
As he talked, his eyes were aiming for the horizon. He raised a hand up to the sky, and it almost seemed he was catching an inexpressible and floating vision.  
Gozu was only a child, so… what should he have done?  
The man’s gaze fascinated him, and the boy just wished someday he would have felt the same excitement, the fulfilling thrill for adventure.

So, since then, the flavour of the rum was always in his nostrils and on the tip of his tongue. His pinkish cheeks were painted in enthusiasm, fading in a childish malice. Gozu remembered the scraped knees he got from cleaning the deck of the ship, the climbings of the mainmast just to be there, on the top of his world, imagining he could touch the stars, pointing to the north, towards the black and unknown seas.

Gozu was a real genius when it came to read the maps or to interpret the weather. So, as he grew up, the affection those seamen held for him slowly turned into esteem, since he had became a strong man, able to lead them away from dangers, from the mermaids’ tricks and the gluttony of arcane monsters.

He was made captain when he was just twenty, greeted by trust and joy.  
The dragons hunter joined them after a while. He had purplish red eyes, hair as white as snow and he wore an amber fur which resembled melted gold in the sunlight.  
Gozu had never seen something like that before, and he was left blinded, fascinated, while the other young man just bowed to him.  
“I’m running away from my land. I need asylum, a place where I can stay safe. I offer you my service, my halberd, my instinct, captain.”  
And as he put a hand on his heart, just to make his bow deeper, Gozu touched his shoulder, smiling.  
“You are my equal, here. Come aboard, we set out to stormy oceans, and you’ll have plenty of time to tell me your story.”

The hunter answered his questions one night when, still naked and holding on to one another, they were sharing a bottle of rum, laying down on the amber and warm fur as stars shined above them.  
“In my land, albinism is considered the evil itself, a curse.” He said, sipping the liqueur, crossing his long legs, the back against the captain’s chest.  
“I’ve survived for years because my parents dyed my hair, and I kept doing the same after their death. Herbs, plants, charcoal…” He chuckled, holding the bottle towards Gozu.  
“Moreover, the dragon leather protect me from sunburns. _Everything was fine_.” He sighed, closing his eyes, before he started playing with his captain’s goatee.  
“The night before I came to you, they… the other hunters found out our leader had kept his albino son’s existence secret. It was a carnage. _You know_ , treason to the Code.” He shivered.  
“In that moment, I hadn’t the time, nor the bravery to discover what they had done to that little boy. I was scared… and I ran away. I had been less than coward.” He admitted, and his gaze was wrapped in a deep and guilty sadness.  
Gozu listened to him, keeping quiet, holding him tightly, as he passed a hand through his hair.  
“But, _you know_ , in some ports I’ve heard rumors. It seems there is a new lord in Aurumvallis, with silver coated hair and eyes as blue as our rivers. Maybe… it’s that little boy. I wonder how he has redeemed himself from the guilt of being born. I… I’d like to come back in my lands for a while.”  
The pirate kissed him on a temple.  
“Then go.” The captain whispered to his ear, biting it. “You are free to do whatever you want, and when you are ready to come aboard again, I’ll be in the nearest port, waiting for you.”

However, he never came back and soon Gozu had nowhere to wait for him.  
He even had no chance to visit the land where _his_ hunter died. In those years, bitterness and hate grew among his men, until they reached a tragic end.  
_Mutiny_ , since a captain wasn’t allowed to show his heart weaknesses or his rotten perversion.

“Half of the crew was devoured by a Leviathan, just to let his whore come back home! The captain must walk the plank!”  
And Gozu accepted the cruel sentence.  
When he woke up on a beach in the South lands, dehydrated and ready to die, he just let another foreign man to establish his fate.  
_“I need warriors for my shows.”_

It happened in a spring night.  
The master had called Juzo to his presence, and the young male knelt before him, eyes closed, listening to the name of the next target.  
_Gozu._  
“My lord… May I ask why?”  
Juzo kept his eyes down on the marble veining of the floor, his fur heavier under the weight of blood.  
“Do I need a reason to make the traitors suffer the punishment they deserve?”  
_Traitor..?_  
“I beg your pardon, my lord.”  
He stood up, turning his back to the master and heading to the exit, but every step was an unbearable struggle: it felt like he was trapped in the mud, tied by venomous vines and cruel brambles.  
_I can’t kill him._

Before dinner, Juzo found out the reason which had led the master to take that decision: Gozu was arranging a riot.  
The number of slaves was increasing, and they kept on dying one by one, as the petals of a flower dried in the sun.  
_It was unfair._  
_It wasn’t human._  
And yet, the former pirate had kept him in the dark.  
Probably, considering his role, Gozu didn’t trust the younger anymore, but he was just trying to _save_ both of them all along, earning enough money, since Juzo had only one wish: _letting his captain set sail again._  
So, with his heart wrapped by the bitter cold of misunderstandings and mistakes, he reached the common room where songs and laughs enlightened Gozu’s presence.

_*_ _"Load the cannons, raise the flag, and take hold of your heart!  
_ _A proper man of courage does not flee before the start.”*_

Juzo smiled, though it appeared like a dark shadow on his lips. He approached the older, stealing his bottle of rum, since it was just an old habit of theirs, and then he left a soft kiss on the man’s nude neck.

_*”Do not fear when death is near, when doom is night at hand.  
_ _Your end marks the beginning of a life in fairer lands!"*_

The younger continued, whispering in Gozu’s ear, following the words the man taught him years ago, as they were holding each other in the intimacy of their bed.  
The cheerful noises stopped when Juzo spoke, but he didn’t mind: Gozu was staring at him, smiling, and he couldn’t wish for more.

“You’re back.”  
“Just for a while. Let’s go outside… I need to take a little walk.”  
The light in his eyes, as red as the blazing flames, was fading, leaving two blurry mirrors in which tenacity and passion were dying.  
It wasn’t really raining on the outside, just drizzling water and sand, and they were heading to the edge of the training field, a hill which overlooked the valley and the only almost dried river.  
Juzo took off his fur, placing it on the ground and then he sat, holding Gozu’s hand, dragging the older next to him. Then, Sakakura made the man laying down, watching over him, two fingers caressing his full lips and the goatee. So, as he was kissing Gozu, he chuckles when the man’s beard tickled his skin.  
“You grew up, Juzo.”  
“Yeah. So it seems. And… oh, you’ve got white hair, old man?” The younger mocked the partner, untying the ponytail, as he straddled him, coming closer to his face.  
Gozu smiled, then he moved Juzo’s hair off his eyes, showing the other’s neck, where the tattoo still burned the flesh, along with thin and pearly scars.  
Softly, the former pirate drew the line of that black mark, and Juzo simply shivered, even if he just wished for pushing away those hands.  
_A thunder of rage shook his heart._  
Even if it was a sweet, careful caress, Sakakura felt only scorn, the proof that the pirate had forgotten him.  
A shrill rain started to pattered against their bodies, but neither of them really minded. Cold tensed their muscles, breaths became deeper.  
Juzo undressed under his control and, slowly, he let Gozu touch, kiss, _contemplate_ his body. The older travelled across the contour of his stomach, sucking along the profile of his collarbone, returning on the mutilated neck. Gozu kept his hands on Juzo’s gluteus, as his fingers described his buttocks line.  
Then, the younger male leaned against his lover, hands on his large and muscular back.  
“Captain, captain…” Sakakura whispered on his lips with a smile tainted in bittersweet sadness.  
_A cruel and lost in tears abandonment filled his gaze._  
“I will warm your cot at night.”  
So, Juzo arched his back, offering himself as a _fake_ and _tasty_ decoy to a naive hunter, before he let Gozu lay under him, just to ride on his body, ruling over the pirate’s desires.  
Then, he wrapped his hands around the man’s neck, perceiving the bones as they cracked under his firm grip.  
_“I’m sorry.”_  
Cold rain drummed on their naked bodies, hiding their secret and wicked intercourse.  
“I beg of you… stay still, Gozu. Stay still.”  
Juzo murmured those words while the man kept on fighting. His throat was gurgling, his eyes stared at him with incredulous horror.  
And yet, Sakakura just wanted to see Gozu sinking into fear – he wanted to repulse the pirate, to let him drown in the sick awareness that his blood and his heart were useless, since he had abandoned his side.  
However, Juzo couldn’t distinguish the man’s face. Among rain drops and maybe tears, he kept squeezing his neck, mounting on him in a wild ride, feeling the other deep inside his own body. In the same way, the warrior also sensed Gozu’s life slip away under his fingers. In fact, as the older exhaled his last guttural noises, he reached out for Juzo’s longer lock of hair.  
“Now… you’re free…”  
But through horror and fear, Juzo couldn’t hear the man's words, so he just read them on his dying lips.  
“And… I’ll wait… for you… in the nearest… port.”  
  
Sakakura screamed – he screamed to the lightning that flashed the night, as he crouched down on Gozu's body. The warrior grabbed the man’s face, unable to stop his voice, his plea lost in the stormy sky.

 _Juzo was twentytwo when he bought his own freedom, as the head of the man he loved rolled to his master’s feet._  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't planning to add Gozu's background... and this chapter was quite hard to write. I hope you've enjoyed it, and that there aren't too much mistakes, as always. XD  
> Well, now you should know something about what will happen in the next chapter.  
> Hell yeah.  
> Munakata's background story is coming. :°D  
> The verses in the chapter are from "The Pirate Shanty"! =)

**Author's Note:**

> **The title of this story is inspired to an Italian Symphonic Metal band, while the name of the chapter is inspired by one of their songs!  
> In English, the latter would be something like "Storm of Fire". **
> 
> *Latin: "Look after you and remember you only are a man". 
> 
> I wasn't supposed to write this story, lol.  
> The idea has struck me a few days ago, when gemini_polux (Hyakunana on tumblr) posted a sketch in which Munakata and Sakakura were holding little dragons in their arms. After some tweets (yes, it all happened on twitter), La Dragonaria wrote something about the fact that Munakata would have been a "Blue Eyes White Dragon" (smells like YGO references!) and so... I started blabbering THINGS which ended up being a plot of some sort for this story (well, it was a little different, actually).  
> So, I suppose this is a sort of challenge. I haven't written long fictions for years and I've started writing English fanfictions only a month ago, maybe? Then, I hope it will help me to improve my English.  
> The story won't be long, and so will be the chapters. It's an experiment and I want to finish it (since I have a scheme for every chapter). However, I can't promise regular updates, but they will arrive.  
> In the next chapter there will be Sakakura's story and I will add other warnings!  
> Thanks for reading!  
> Until the next time!


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